Science Fiction Though the Decades

Monday, December 24, 2012

1971: One Million Tomorrows (Shaw, Bob)

Futuristic romanticism slightly marred by lazy pot-boiler (4/5)

My earlier readings of Bob Shaw revealed a writer of two skill sets:
one with a carefree ease of penning a simple novel (Vertigo [1978]) and another
penning a novel with solid impact (Ground Zero Man [1971]). Both of these
novels shared one common theme: Shaw’s gift for emitting humanization through
the characters’ plight. It’s this human element which I wanted to return to in
Bob Shaw’s writing.

Rear cover synopsis:

“In the 22nd Century, no one had to die of old age: an
immortality drug was available to all. Its only drawback was the side-effect
that ended a man’s sex drive, so most men waited till their youth was fading
before they took the final step and became ‘cools.’

But Will Carewe became the first man to test a new variety of the drug,
one without any side-effect at all. The limitless future, a million tomorrows,
stretched before him with golden hope… until a series of ‘accidents’ made him
realize that someone was trying to murder him.

As an immortal Carewe had an infinitely greater stake in remaining
alive. So he began the battle to find out who was after him, and why…”

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Uneasy with the sudden focus on him, Will Carewe, a lowly accountant
for the company who manufacturers the ubiquitous immortality drug, is unsure
why he was called to the company president’s chambers. Proud of his work for Farma
incorporated and swallowing a cocktail of anti-handover pills, Will approaches the
office with reluctance and foreboding. Will’s common sense earns him the
attention of the president for a drug trial which allows him to become immortal
and maintain the “benefits.”

When men take the common immortality drug, their loins which had once
burnt with passion become impassive and flaccid, a sexual void which many wives
find a way around. Therefore, many of the men who eventually take the
immortality drug do so after their life’s prime state, but Will is over 40 now
and unwilling to take the plunge to become a “cool”, a term used for a man who
has undergone immortality and lacks the fire in his loins. With the promise of keeping
his libido, Will accepts the new and improved immortality drug.

During his honeymoon, Will injects himself with the immortality drug
thereby “tying off” at his present age but still able to produce a few thrusts
before he “cools”… and so he does, much to his wife’s enjoyment. However, not
everything is perfect in the Carewe household—soon after the honeymoon, his wife
admits she’s pregnant, but seeded by another man’s passion. His anger drives
him away from his wife and away from his accountant work; he decides to
voluntary leave from his position to African continent. His work, he soon
discovers, involves demoralizing the Malawi natives and forcing
immortality/sterilization upon them. His stomach isn’t weakened by the deed,
but his immortality is being tested by actions to take his life.

Chased by “random” accidents and eager to make up to his wife, his
perilous life becomes more complicated when he discovers his wife is missing—presumed
kidnapped. With the assistance of Farma Incorporated and their hired detective,
the two track down the location of his wife and her captors, though a slippery
notion plagues Will’s instincts in the frictionless ball-bearing factory. Who
would want him dead and what do they want with his wife?

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“Who would want him dead and what do they want with his wife?” – that’s
the tiny mystery behind the otherwise wonderful plot with social and ethical
considerations abound. Rather than take the high road and explore these facets
of immortality and sterility, Bob Shaw takes the low road and takes the reader
through chase scenes and man-on-man fist fights. What “could have been” was
boiled down to “what it wasn’t meant to be”, but this reader wasn’t too
terribly disappointed.

Shaw mentions time and again the “cooling” effect of the immortality
drug. He also goes further into the martial affection of this “cooling” – if the
women aren’t serviced by their man, where can they go to slake their libidinous
passions? There are further ethical dilemmas: Is immortality a basic human
right? Should immortality be forced upon the unwilling? These are intriguing
humane questions to consider, but this remains the only human element in One
Million Tomorrows. As Joachim
has said, the pot-boiler in the last entire half of the novel drags down some
(though not a majority) of the wonderment experienced in the initial half.

As mentioned in the introduction, the novels Vertigo and Ground
Zero Man have distinct differences. Among those differences is the prose
Shaw has penned. Ground Zero Man had elegant sections with vivid
descriptions while Vertigo was largely stale in flowery language. One
Million Tomorrows is reminiscent of the insightful language and flowery
depictions. Aside from the tiresome attempts on Will’s life, the world around
Will is rich with detail: private transportation in “bullets” (with futuristic
carphones) via pneumatic cross-country tubes, household appliances with domed
abodes housing self-chilling glasses, and industrial Idaho producing
frictionless ball-bearing (and the hazards such an invention poses).

Class the above as retro-futuristic uninhibited reverse peristalsis or
eager-to-meet-the-future-with-wide-eyes optimism, but I’m a sucker for it all. I
love the romanticism of glorifying the future’s luxuriousness and
inventiveness; the more uninhibited and the more exotic, the better. Perhaps
this is why I rate the novel a 4 rather than Joachim’s 3. I can look past the
pot-boiler plot filler and weak ending for guilty pleasure found in futuristic potential
and gadgetry.

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My third book by Bow Shaw and he yet he still manages to show another
facet to his middling talent; good, not great, with some decent imagery and
romanticism, but failing to tie everything together into one wholesome package.
The perfect Shaw hasn’t been found, but two more line my shelves (Fire
Pattern [1984] and Orbitsville [1975]) and others await my lustful sci-fi
eye.